


don't want it baudelaire, just glitter lust

by something_pithy



Series: you ain't a killer nor good [3]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Jessica Jones (TV), Luke Cage (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Up in da club, straight up Claire trash fo'eva
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-22 08:05:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8278747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/something_pithy/pseuds/something_pithy
Summary: Jessica finds a pair of scandalous shoes in Claire's closet.Then they get scandalous.





	

**Author's Note:**

> <333333333333333333333333333333
> 
> It's smutty in there and I don't care, I am complete Claire Trash
> 
> prompt thanks to http://ourwritingprompts.tumblr.com
> 
> "wearing heels. the NYC cityscape at night. traveling with your best friends. bright, neon colors. fireworks. finding constellations of stars. the color navy."
> 
> I may have missed a couple, but it just didn't turn out to be that kind of fic >.>

It was completely by accident that Jessica came across the _shoes_ \-- six-inch, strappy, silver, Beyonce-worthy stilettos in the back of Claire’s closet. When she found them, she’d been directed by Claire to get her kit from the closet, and Jessica, only having half-listened (because she was half in the bag), had looked in the wrong spot and saw the flash of a glittering strap.

When she emerged from the closet, it was with the kit in one hand, the slender straps dangling from two fingers on the other, and a red-lipped grin.

“What the fuck are _these_ , Nurse Temple?” she asked with an arched brow.

Looking up from the Duane Reade bags full of supplies on her coffee table, she blinked before the beginnings of a slow half-grin slinked across her face.

“Well, last I checked, they were shoes,” she replied glibly, standing up to take the kit from Jessica. Jessica held it out of her reach.

“Oh, no,” she said, still grinning. “ _These_ shoes have a story.”

Claire shrugged fluidly, but the half-grin deepened, turned a little nostalgic.

“No story,” she said. “Just shoes.”

It was another two drinks before Claire copped to the misspent portion of her youth spent in clubs, dancing past dawn, and a shot before she put them on.

***

Jessica didn’t believe in these kinds of girls’ nights; clubs and heels and short-short dresses, which is why she was wearing her usual boots, jeans, tank, and leather jacket. She wasn’t sure exactly how she’d been convinced to go to this club, but she was pretty sure it had something to do with a conspiracy between Claire, Misty, and Trish (the fucking traitor). Now she was in the Meatpacking District, getting into a club that wouldn’t have given her the time of day if she weren’t with Trish, who even without her connections and ease of getting her names on lists, was hot and blonde and wearing the kind of dress that no bouncer could say no to.

The music wasn’t Jessica’s usual bag, but it was hard to deny the pulse of the beat at that many decibels. Trish went to score them some drinks, and so Jess was leaning against the wall, watching the writhing crowd, bathed in neon colors and strobes, winding and grinding, and then she saw _her_.

The dress saffron, something silky and bold and off the shoulder, flowing and clinging in all the right places with every shift and slide of her body, so short the hem skimmed the tops of her thighs as she rolled her hips. As Jessica’s gaze traveled appreciatively down her body, she saw _the shoes_.

Her gaze shot up to her face; her hair was piled on top of her head, tendrils curling around her glowing cheeks and jaw, and wearing fucking _make-up_ – but it was definitely her. Claire.

Jessica’s grin might have been a little predatory, but then, so was Claire’s as she spotted her, beckoning with a little crook of her finger, body undulating to the beat in a way that really almost wasn’t fair.

Almost.

She approached her in a saunter, moving through the mass of hedonist celebrants with enough rhythm not to interrupt the flow – though it definitely couldn’t have been called dancing.

With a sloe-eyed smile, Claire undulated her way to Jessica.

Jessica had noticed Claire before – it was hard not to. Even in hard-ass nurse mode, flashes of something wry, something sultry, slinked through Claire’s gaze from time to time, and that was hard to miss.

But tonight, a side of Claire Jessica had never seen in its fullness was in all its sex-bomb glory, and Jessica liked it.  
  
A lot.  
  
Still smirking, she slid her hand onto Claire’s hip, the fabric of that dress silky under her fingers. Claire immediately took up a rhythm, swaying in time to a beat that demanded sex and sweat and fucking dirty in dimly-lit corners. Claire’s movements were fluid and precise, sidling up flush to her, and Jessica could feel every curve of her through the thin fabric.  
  
Slipping her arms over Jessica’s shoulders – they were of a height with those heels on – Claire leaned in close to hum soft in Jessica’s ear. Jessica could smell her shampoo, her perfume, the body butter that, Jessica guessed, made her skin so smooth as she traced her fingers from Claire’s bare shoulder, down her arm to the back of her hand. Claire’s lips, soft, glossy, brushed her lobe as she spoke to her in that smooth, sinuous voice of hers.

“Nice to see you, _Jessica_ ,” she purred, her breath feathering over her ear, her neck, before her lips brushed over the pulse point just _there_.

Jessica looked at her, wearing a wolfish grin, now. 

“Be careful, little girl,” she purred back, leaning into Claire. “Sweet, pretty young things like you could get in a lot of trouble in a place like this.”

“Well, I don’t know about sweet,” she said, unzipping Jessica’s coat and sliding her hands under the heavy leather and the lining to caress her waist. “But you know I’m all about trouble.”

“Is that right?” Jessica replied with a grin, giving her a heavy-lidded look.

“That’s right,” Claire said with a smile, looking into her eyes as she slid her leg between Jessica's and began rolled her hips into Jessica’s denim-clad thigh. Jessica saw Misty over Claire’s shoulder, who was dancing with Colleen; the cop gave her a sly, knowing grin and a wave before turning back to whispering in Colleen’s ear.  
  
It was good enough, though, because Claire was proving a much better focal point. A song with a ragged, well-paced beat came on, and Claire was grinding on her, and she found herself grinding right back.

Both grinning, they were pressed flush to each other, every movement between them alternating between silky-seductive and firm direction – mostly Claire directing Jessica’s hips, or Jessica pulling her closer, and then Claire’s slim, silky hand sliding up to Jessica’s cheek to tilt her head just so before she pressed her lips to hers.

***

Sparks were a thing. 

Claire’s lips parted and so did Jessica’s – and then, once Jessica had that first, perfect taste – mojitos, yes, but also underneath that, _Claire_ , in all her sexy, sensual, delicious glory – there was aggression.

It was hard to say if Jessica made the first move, because Claire met her without hesitation, touching, sliding, tasting. Claire’s hands slid just under the waist of her jeans, teasing the small of her back with trails of her sharp nails. One hand slid over the jeans to cup her ass, pull her closer still, and Jessica felt herself get slick as she pressed harder into Claire’s thigh and they entwined to the rhythm.

Jessica was a cheetah, a panther, some powerful, graceful, _fast_ big cat, and she kissed like it, leaving Claire gasping for air and kissing back with as much fervor.

It wasn’t long before Claire took her hand and led her through the crowd, the front door, and as soon as they passed a suitable alley, she led Jessica into it and pressed into her again – though with a cocky grin, Jessica turned them around so that Claire’s back was to the wall and slid fingers between Claire’s legs. Claire’s eyes rolled up for a second, lashes fluttering.

“Oh God, Jessica,” she breathed in a low moan. “Fuck yes…”  
“Like that?” Jessica asked, grinning, shifting her fingers as she slid them into her, brushing her thumb against her clit.

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Claire bit her lip to hold back a squeak. Jessica pumped her fingers into her slowly at first, watching Claire’s very expressive face as she caught the rhythm and started rocking her hips. With a grin, Jessica got down to her knees, lifting one of Claire’s legs over her shoulder.

“Oh my God, Jessica,” she whispered, breathless. “What the fuck – someone will see us…”

Jessica smiled up at her before pressing a kiss to her bare inner thigh.

“You think?” she hummed against the skin of the opposite thigh before she kissed it, too. “I figure I’m pretty good at this. I bet I can get you off in… five minutes.”

“Two,” Claire hummed out, rocking her hips into Jessica’s hand.

“Let’s say three,” Jessica said, grinning up at her, rucking her skirt up, her breath warming and tickling Claire’s panties.

“OK, three – _oh fuck,”_ she moaned as Jessica neatly tore her panties off and licked a broad, slick stripe along the length of her slit, then another, deeper, parting her lips with her tongue and swirling her tongue around her clit.

“Oh my God,” Claire ground out, fingers fisting in the shoulder of Jessica’s jacket. Jessica grinned up at her before she licked again, more deeply, and started pumping her fingers in and out again.

Jessica was relentless; lips, fingers, tongue, and just a tiny touch of teeth, Claire rocking her hips, Jessica holding her still to control the flow, denying her when she was just about to come – _three times_ , that bitch! – until finally, she went all in, Claire out of her mind, begging breathily, writhing, her thigh tight in Jessica’s grip; Jessica took her clit in her mouth and _sucked_.

Claire nearly collapsed.  
  
It was everything she could do to cover her mouth to stifle the scream, and the vibrations of Jessica’s laughter prolonged the sensation, made it so good it was almost unbearable.

Almost.

When she was mostly done, still trembling, unsteady on those high-ass heels, Jessica set her leg down, smoothed her skirt, and rose, almost close enough to touch as Claire leaned on the wall, and, smiling, slid her fingers, still slick with Claire, into her mouth. When she slipped them out, she leaned in to kiss Claire deeply, a little savagely.

There had never been anything more sexy than tasting herself on Jessica’s tongue.

Twining her arms around Jessica’s neck, she kissed her back, sliding her hands over her shoulders, hips swaying as she brushed her body against Jessica’s.

“You ready for round two?” Jessica said against her lips, around a grin. Claire grinned back and kissed her again.

“I don’t know about that just yet, but I’m not just a pillow puta, you know,” she said, her voice throaty and full of promise.

Jessica’s grin widened. “Well then, sounds like we better get us home, babe.”

“It does sound like that, doesn’t it?” Claire said with a smirk, straightening her skirt. That done, she slid her arm into the crook of Jessica’s, and they started off (a little unsteadily, on Claire’s part) for Claire’s apartment, shooting texts to Misty and Trish – who were the least surprised ever.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, come see me on tumblr at something_pithy!


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